


Library Meeting

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Series: 616 Stony Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Avengers Vol. 8 (2018), First Kiss, Long Suppressed Mutual Pining, M/M, idiots being idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22005901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: The last place Steve expects to run into Tony is the library. And from the shocked expression on Tony’s face, the feeling is mutual.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: 616 Stony Bingo 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1396459
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	Library Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Wow can you believe it's the 28th of December 2019 already ! I sure as shit can't! Anyways, I'm gonna rush to complete the top row of my 616 bingo card so that I can at least complete the challenge!!!!
> 
> This prompt is for "Library Meetings"

The last place Steve expects to run into Tony is the library. And from the shocked expression on Tony’s face, the feeling is mutual. 

Steve stands in the doorway, staring at Tony, who is seated in an overstuffed armchair with an engineering book in hand. The sight is so painfully nostalgic, Steve finds himself transported back into the past, to all the times they’ve been in this position. 

Except, back then, the surprise had quickly faded, only to be replaced with open delight. They’d smile at each other, ask what the other was reading, and they would talk. Now however, the shock turns to wariness on Tony’s handsome face, body stiffening minutely under the throw, bracing himself. 

_ That’s  _ the thing that hurts more than anything else. That Tony feels like he needs to be on guard around Steve. God knows they’ve both done shit to warrant that reaction. Especially what with how they’ve recently been trying to figure out how to handle Namor. But it still stings.

“Steve,” Tony greets cautiously. “You’re up late.”

“Could say the same to you.” Steve finds himself replying. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Tony’s shoulder rises and falls in a half-shrug; a non-answer. 

Assuming that’s all the conversation they’re going to have, Steve heads into the bookshelves. The library in their new base of operations is a far cry from the library Tony and Jarvis had built back at the mansion. Not in size, however, but rather at the topics covered. T’challa and his team have made sure they have books on any subject they might need as an Avenger. Steve knows there’s three times as many books available on the computers for them to reference. But when it comes to recreational reading? The options are kind of limited.

He’s half-heartedly going over the biographies a third time when he hears someone clearing their throat. Looking up, Steve finds Tony standing right out of arm’s reach with a wry smile on his lips. “Not a lot of light reading available here,” he jokes, tone light as a feather. 

Accepting the olive branch gratefully, Steve nods. “I’m looking for something to read before going to sleep but this isn’t what I had in mind.”

“You always said Churchill’s biography was dry enough to put you to sleep.”

Steve’s lips can’t help but twitch up at the old joke. It’s true. Tony’d once even caught him with his head using the open book as a pillow because Steve’d fallen asleep mid-read. 

“Not in the mood to read something like that tonight.”

“What are you in the mood for?” 

Sighing, Steve steps away from the bookshelf. “Not biographies, that’s for sure.”

“I might have something up your alley.” Steve looks up in surprise at the offer. Tony nods over his shoulder, towards the exit. “I brought some books from back home. You might find something you like in there.”

It’s an old feeling, this quiet gratitude that seeps into Steve. It trickles into the aching crevasses of his soul, filling them with warmth. Smiling, Steve takes a step forward. “Thanks Tony. I’d appreciate that.”

They walk in silence back to Tony’s room. There’s no one else around this late at night. If Steve strains his hearing, he can hear the quiet, mechanical hum of their Celestial base. That turns out to be a minor mistake because as they pass by Thor’s room, Steve overhears certain noises that have him hurrying away with hot ears, something that makes Tony widen his step to catch up. 

Thankfully, Tony’s room is silent. As Tony flips the light on, Steve realizes that, much like himself, Tony hasn’t found the time to unpack his belongings and truly make this room his own. There’s a few boxes piled up against the far wall, several more opened ones scattered around the bed. 

Tony guides him over to the bookshelf and taps each shelf as he says, “Fantasy, classics, Shakespeare, sci-fi, and engineering. Everything’s alphabetized. These boxes,” Tony taps them with his foot, “have some more in them if you want to check some more options out. Take whatever you like.”

Steve peruses through the limited but decent selection. There’s a lot of books he enjoys here but Steve knows that if he starts to read them, he’s not going to fall asleep, which is something he’d like to do. He wants something to take him away just long enough for his mind to relax. Which is why, he starts with the fantasy stories. Mostly he hopes to find some Tolkien in the mix but no dice. So Steve moves down, down, down, until there’s no more books to check on the shelves.

Steve shoots Tony a quick look over his shoulder before he moves onto the boxed books. But the dark-haired man is not paying him any attention and is obviously deeply engrossed in his own book. Relaxing, Steve opens the first box. It’s filled with books on maths, AI, and robotics, none of which are topics Steve is currently interested in. The next one, has more classics in it. Steve puts the Sherlock Holmes book to the side. If he can’t find anything else, this will do.

The third box, Steve notes, has a lot more dust covering it and is singed in one corner. He runs his fingers over the burn marks and wonders how that happened. Was the box damaged during the trip here? Or after it had arrived? 

When he opens the box, Steve realizes that this is a box that Tony, or more likely Jarvis, had pulled out of storage because there’s bubble wrap and packing paper on top. And underneath? There are gifts Steve remembers giving Tony during their early days. Treasures of days long past and a friendship left in ruins.

Butterflies flutter around inside Steve’s ribcage as he pulls out a picture frame. It’s a quick sketch he’d made of Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey an age ago. The glass is broken and the paper has yellowed but the lines are dark and vivid. There’s a small sketchbook he’d given Tony for a birthday. There’s a stack of sketches he’d made on scraps of paper, napkins, and post-it notes, all wrapped together with a fraying ribbon. There’s several books Steve remembering loaning to Tony. And at the very bottom, is a slightly singed but clearly well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. It looks terribly familiar.

Heart in his throat, Steve pulls the thick book out and examines it. A multitude of cracks run down the spine. A couple of pages are sticking out a hair. More pages at the end of the book are burnt at the bottom right corner. With a swallow, he flips the book open to its first page and there’s his proof. There’s his message to Tony: “Tony, I hope you’ll come to enjoy Tolkien as much as I do. Yours, Steve.” 

Steve’s fingers stroke his faded words, hurt welling up in him as he thinks,  _ where’d we go so wrong?  _ He presses the book up against his forehead and breathes in the ashes, wondering  _ how  _ their relationship has become so fraught? 

There had been a time, around when he’d gifted Tony this very book, that Steve had thought he’d been on the cusp of a very dangerous, very exhilirating personal relevation about his feelings towards Tony. There had been moments, often late at night when they’d been alone, that Steve had felt that Tony was standing on the edge of the same precipice. But nothing had ever happened. They’d toed the line but never dared to cross it. 

It’s hard to believe that there was a time he’d thought that he could love Tony. But as soon as Steve thinks that, he knows it’s wrong. He’s loved Tony for a lifetime. But at that time, he’d hoped that perhaps Tony could love him back. Steve’s long considered him a fool for thinking like that. It’s not something he actively thinks about if he’s completely honest. His feelings towards Tony, he means. Especially not since...

But seeing this box and it’s contents, Steve wonders if maybe.... Just maybe... Tony had been thinking the same thing he had been. That perhaps Tony had wanted more as well but had been too scared to make the first move. Steve feels like a fool for even considering it but... what if, you know?

Swallowing doesn’t help move the lump in his throat. Steve’s throat stays dry and his tongue now feels too big for his mouth. He opens his mouth but he doesn’t know what he wants to say. Should he ask Tony how long he’s kept this box? Or why had Tony put all these things away somewhere to gather dust? Or should he say thanks and leave with the book? 

Steve’s still trying to find an answer when Tony’s light question of, “Find anything good?” interrupts his thoughts. 

Startling, Steve twists to face Tony and finds the man walking over to him with a curious expression on his face. Tony’s eyes slip down to Steve’s hands. Steve holds his breath, every ounce of focus locked in on Tony’s reaction. Tony’s eyes widen, his breath stutters, and his body does a funny little jerk, like it’s not certain if it should keep moving or stop. Several microexpressions flit over Tony’s face, most of them indicating surprise. 

“I thought I’d lost that,” Tony says, voice low and rough. “Where did you...”

Steve shifts, letting Tony see the box. Recognition sparks in Tony’s eyes almost immediately. He drops down on his knees next to Steve and reverantly sinks his hands into the box. Their shoulders brush together. Steve tries and fails to hold back a shiver. 

Steve watches Tony’s face as the man goes through the sketchbook, the framed sketches and photographs. “I thought this got blown up with the rest of the mansion when...” Tony shakes his head before he puts the picture frame down. “I guess Jarvis must have kept this in storage unit somewhere else.”

“I didn’t know you’d kept all this,” Steve can’t stop himself from saying. 

He’s amazed to see the tips of Tony’s ears turning pink. “Well. I didn’t realize I still had all this.”

That’s a poor attempt at deflection if Steve’s ever heard one. He shoots Tony a look that says as much too but Tony’s firmly not meeting Steve’s eye. In fact, he’s almost buried his head inside the book. 

“Why keep all this in the first place? You could have thrown most of this away.”

“It’s rude to throw away gifts.”

Steve pokes the napkin doodle he’d made of Thor trying to destroy a pancake monster. “ _ That’s  _ not worth keeping. And it wasn’t even a gift.”

Tony shoots him a dirty look as he tucks the sketch back into its pile. “Of course it’s worth keeping. You made it.”

“It’s just a stupid sketch,” Steve pleads, trying to understand as much as he’s trying to make  _ Tony  _ understand.

“ _ Your  _ sketch.” Tony insists firmly, tightening the ribbon around the pile of papers. 

See, when Tony does t _ that  _ thing of ever so casually implying that Steve’s incredibly important to him? It makes Steve’s stupid heart go pitter-patter and be stupidly hopeful. It’s a sensation he hasn’t felt in a couple of years. And frankly, it’s a little annoying that his heart is still so soft towards Tony.

He shouldn’t be feeling this way. Not towards Tony, not after everything that’s happened and what they’ve been through. 

But this is  _ Tony _ .  _ Tony  _ who has kept these... these useless little things that Steve had given him. All these sketches and drawings that have no worth in the world and yet Tony had hoarded them like a dragon hoarding treasure all because  _ Steve’s  _ the one who’d made them.

“Tony...” Steve starts and stops, filling with so much emotion that words fail him. He just doesn’t know what to say. Are there even words to express the orange-sweet happiness welling up in him?

Where his mind fails him, his body, thankfully, has an answer. 

Steve crosses the space between them and kisses Tony. It’s the quickest of kisses. The barest brush of dry lips. And it is  _ electrifying _ , to feel Tony’s quick intake of breath against his bottom lip, to feel the brush of his moustache against his own upper lip. It’s knowledge seared into Steve’s memory, right next to knowing how soft Tony’s lips are.

Cheeks warming, Steve ignores the bug-eyed look Tony is giving him, and clears his throat. “I’m just... I’m gonna... borrow this.” He holds the Lord of the Rings up for Tony to see before hurrying up to his feet. “Thanks for the ... for uhh... everything.” 

Steve turns his eyes to the door and hurries towards it, heart racing like he’s just run a marathon. He’s three steps away when Tony’s calling out, “Wait!” 

Steve wants to turn around just as much as he doesn’t. The moment of indecisiveness is all that Tony needs to catch up and send them both crashing into the door. Steve grunts as his side smacks against the heavy wood. But he quickly forgets his pain when he realizes that Tony’s got him pinned.

“What was that?” Tony asks. 

The question is a puff of warm air against Steve’s mouth and it turns his knees to water. There’s also the fact that they’re chest to chest and Tony’s got one leg between his. If he presses forward another inch then...

Steve swallows, heat crawling up his spine when he sees Tony’s eyes dip down to track the movement. “What was what?”

“That  _ kiss _ !” Tony cries out, voice cracking. “Why did you kiss me?”

There’s a wildness in Tony’s eyes that Steve’s rarely seen. The thing that gets to him is the fact that it’s desperate. Steve can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen this level of desperation in Tony. But he’s never been the one to inspire this feeling in Tony. That is humbling as much as it is shameful.

That’s why Steve looks away from Tony’s eyes and admits the truth, as much as he can anyways. “Because I wanted to.”

It’s a quiet admission, meant only for Tony’s ears and no one else. Steve had looked away because he can’t see Tony’s reaction to his words. He’s too scared. But due to their proximity, he finds himself catching enough of it out of the corner of his eye. He can hear the stutter in Tony’s breathing. Feel the way Tony’s body stiffens.  _ See  _ the widening of Tony’s eyes.

Steve holds his breath, waiting for Tony to laugh at him, reject him, tell him that there’s been some kind of mistake. Any second now. When Tony inhales, a deep and careful move, Steve braces himself for dissapointment.

He’s ready for a lot of things but not Tony’s gentle touch forcing his eyes back on the dark-haired man. Steve finds himself peering back at Tony, whose blue eyes are filled with tentativeness. They stare at each other for a moment before Tony carefully starts to lean in.

There’s no mistaking what’s about to happen. 

Steve could avoid it. He could turn his head. Say something to stop Tony. Run away, much like he’s been doing for half his life. But he’s so  _ tired  _ of running away. And this is Tony jumping in after him, holding his hand out for Steve to take.

So he closes his eyes and waits. 

The kiss, when it lands, is a shy but tender press of lips. Steve’s mind reels as Tony’s hand cups the back of Steve’s head with a gentleness that brings threatens to bring tears to his eyes. Tony’s lips pull away and return before Steve can complain, pressing more firmly this time. They capture Steve’s bottom lip and suck on it softly before releasing it.

They kiss over and over again, clinging to each other until there’s no space between them. Which is the perfect amount of space that should exist between him and Tony. Steve’s hand don’t know where to stop. They roam over Tony’s body, learning the shape and hardness of his form, the places that make Tony twitch and sigh. Steve realizes that Tony’s leg has drawn higher and if he were to grind his own hips down, he could ride Tony’s thigh if he wanted.

But not right now. Not like this. 

  
_ Later _ , Steve promises himself as he presses a quick kiss to Tony’s throat.  _ Soon _ .


End file.
